


somewhere in the middle is one goodbye

by starwarse



Series: sad thilbo one-shots [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, One Shot, Sad, Sadness, Suicide, dead fili and kili, except it had a happy ending and this one will NOT, hmm, im reasonably certain that i've read a fic like this ish, im so upset so im pouring my sadness into a a sad fic, post-BotFA, suicide TW, yeah just thought... i should warn you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-02-06
Packaged: 2018-03-10 16:18:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3296777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starwarse/pseuds/starwarse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the battle is won, erebor has been reclaimed. all is well, or it's supposed to be.<br/>or, in which the battle of the five armies took more lives than planned, and thorin is unable to cope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	somewhere in the middle is one goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> were you looking for an out of character, terribly sad fic with like no dialogue??? WELL YOU'VE COME TO THE RIGHT PLACE because i freaking suck at writing and this is my first bagginshield fic   
> thanks xoxo goodnight

Everything was fine after the battle—at least, for the first few days.

Thorin, Fili and Kili were rushed to the medical tents, along with hundreds of other soldiers. Bilbo had barely been injured, suffering only a slight bump on his head that Oin said only needed ice. It was almost worse than dying, waiting to see if his friends would live, but the medics said they’d turn out alright. Besides, he had his friends to talk to. Bofur helped especially, telling Bilbo tales from the Blue Mountains, funny stories of Thorin losing his composed stature around the company and anything between, anything to stop thinking about the very real possibility that their friends could die.

It was honestly a miracle that Fili and Kili lasted so long. Bilbo thought they were dead at first, lying cold and lifeless in front of Thorin. Only their small, barely-felt pulses confirmed the fact that they were, indeed, alive, and needed help. Kili was stabbed in the shoulder and had his head bashed in, but Fili took a sword straight through his gut.

The situation was grim, but at least Thorin was all right. He wouldn’t be back on his feet for a few weeks, but the doctors could confirm that he’d be walking in no time. Whenever Bilbo asked about Fili and Kili, though, no one would look him in the eye.

3 days after Bilbo found them, they died in their tents. Both in the same night, tragically. Balin joked that they never really could stand being apart from one another, but everyone saw just how much it hurt him.

It hurt everyone, really. The whole company could barely talk to one another without bursting into tears. Bilbo was pushed into a state of shock at first. After that wore off, he could not stop crying. He caught Dwalin shedding a few tears their bodies as he visited them once. over Even the elves bowed in respect as they passed the tents. The elven king’s son, Legolas, comforted Kili’s elf, Tauriel, as she wept.

Thorin didn’t know until nearly a week later, when he was conscious enough to process the information. He knew, technically speaking, but the anesthetics Oin used blurred his thinking, making him practically drunk whenever he woke. Eventually, he did have to stop taking it and resume his kingly duties, though Oin was reluctant to stop.

Once Thorin knew what happened, he stopped being...  well, himself. He took the blame for everything that happened to them, to everyone, which made no sense to Bilbo. Sure, none of this would’ve happened if Thorin never insisted on the quest, but he couldn’t have known what fate awaited his nephews. He said none of this to Thorin though, allowing him to mourn. Even if it was exactly what he needed to hear.

The only comfort he allowed Thorin was physical. He held him while he cried, brought him his meals and anything else Thorin needed.

_This will pass_ , Bilbo thought to himself. _Sadness cannot linger forever—I just have to stick through it and help him, we can be happy one day._

 

* * *

 

The funeral was probably the most emotional part about it all.

Fili and Kili were dressed in the royal attire from the treasury. They looked handsome, or as handsome as anyone could be after they died. Bilbo thought they would’ve hated wearing such fancy clothes, though. He smiled a sad smile at the thought.

It was nearly a week after they had died, so Dis could come to the funeral. Gandalf sent for the Eagles to bring her, since no other means of transportation could transport her to the Lonely Mountain quickly enough.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, my Lady Dis,” Bilbo had said. “Though I had hoped the circumstances upon our meeting would’ve been much different.”

She had smiled at him. “Aye, and it’s lovely to meet the hobbit my brother’s been writing to me about for months now. Hopefully I’ll get to know you better, once we get the chance.”

The actual funeral part was quite boring, if Bilbo was being honest. It was just a bunch of words that were recited at every royal death. They meant nothing about Fili and Kili.

Before their caskets were closed shut, Dis leaned over and kissed both of their foreheads. To everyone’s surprise, Thorin did the same. He walked back to Bilbo, standing tall and broad. Bilbo could feel Thorin’s shaking hand on the small of his back, though, so he reached behind and grabbed it.

As their caskets were lowered into the mountain, Bilbo only hoped that the stories of the afterlife were true and that Fili and Kili were walking the halls of their ancestors. He didn’t know if he’d be alright if he didn’t.

 

* * *

For the first few months, Thorin was lost to sadness. Bilbo understood though, and gave him his space. All he could offer his lover were his opens arms and not shaming his tears. Of course, there were many nights where they cried together underneath the sheets, not mentioning it the next morning.  

 He allowed Thorin to do a lot of things in his depressed state. Of course, he kept Thorin in check, but he told himself that it was all right that Thorin rarely talked to him in the days anymore. That Thorin only talked to Bilbo at night, whispers of “It was my fault, it was all my fault, how could I do that to them…?”. He knew that what was going on was far from healthy, but it was the best they could do given the circumstances, and he’d take it.

One thing Bilbo couldn’t allow was how much he threw himself into his work. He’d wake up countless times to finding Thorin out of bed, working on paperwork or organizing trade with the Men and Elves.

“You should really get some rest,” He’d say. “You’ve barely slept all week, you do need to sleep, you know.”

Thorin would usually hum in approval, but only go back to bed in an hour or so.

Bilbo found himself a little lonely those first few months after the battle. Thorin was often caught up in kingly business and his friends in their crafts. He sometimes dreamt of going home to the Shire, back where neighbors talked to him everyday for hours on end and he wasn’t so starved for human interaction.

All he’d have to do after that is think about Thorin, how desperately he clung to Bilbo at nights, and he’d already convinced himself that he wasn’t leaving any time soon.  

 

* * *

 Nearly six months had passed since the battle, and nothing had changed. With Thorin, that is.

Now that Erebor was populated, his friends didn’t have to devote so much time to working, meaning Bilbo could seek company once again. His favorite people to hang out with of late were Ori and Bofur.

Of course he talked to the other dwarves, too, but he had never been as close with them. He did quite enjoy Bombur’s company as of late. Now that he had proper ingredients, his cooking was marvelous. Also, Balin was always a nice companion, but, like Thorin, was often caught up in the business of Erebor.

He’d often talk to Bofur about his new fiancee. Bofur had recently began courting, so he’d tell Bilbo all about her. Bilbo loved talking to Bofur, and he loved seeing Bofur happy, so he had no objections. Still, it sparked a little flare of jealousy in his heart that he was ashamed of. He should be happy for his friend, yet instead he’s thinking about his own relationships and its faults.

He still had Ori to talk to, though. Bilbo would help him in the library, translating texts. He’d get the Elven ones and Ori did the Dwarvish ones. Occasionally, Bilbo would teach Ori a little bit of Elvish, but it didn’t happen often. Most of their days were spent chatting idly and just enjoying each other’s company.

“You should come with me to see Dale,” Ori would say. “Bard’s been rebuilding Dale with the help of Thranduil’s elves, it looks lovely!”

“I bet it does,” Bilbo would reply, smiling over his text. “But if the elves are helping, don’t you think I should teach you Sindarin first? It would be much better if you could speak their language.”

Ori would smile back. “Oh, but of course!” And with that they’d go back to translating.

Of course, Bilbo couldn’t say the real reason he couldn’t go to Dale. He had actually asked Thorin once, earlier that month. They were in bed together, lying beneath the warmth of the blankets.

When he asked, Thorin’s mouth drew to a tight line. “I’m afraid I cannot allow that, ghivashel.”

Bilbo looked up at Thorin. “What?”

“I said,” he repeated slowly. “You cannot go to the city of Dale. It’s far too dangerous, far too soon.”

“Why not? I’m just asking to go to the city, you know they love me there! It’s not a huge deal or anything!”

“Except it is!” Thorin sat up. “I just lost my nephews, practically my own sons. I can’t afford to lose you, too Bilbo, I just can’t.”

Bilbo sighed. “Alright, I won’t go just yet. Maybe someday.”

Thorin gathered Bilbo in his arms again, laying back onto the bed.  

“Someday.”

 

* * *

 

A year after the battle, and Bilbo was sure Thorin was in an affair, or doing illegal work, or something bad. He wasn’t all right; something went wrong.

Actually, many things went wrong, on top of everything that already was. Thorin was still not quite there, in the same way he’d been when he first heard of his nephews’ deaths. Even Dis, their mother, had opened back up. Not totally fine, but she managed.

At nights, Thorin didn’t sleep in the same bed as Bilbo anymore, either. Bilbo’s not sure when it started happening. He just remembers one day, he held the duvet up for his lover, who just walked right on past into the next room. At first, he thought Thorin was just doing more work. But after a week of this happening and still waking up to an empty bed, he decided to check it out. An hour after Bilbo feigned falling asleep, he walked to the room Thorin went to and saw him asleep, on the bed. He could actually feel his heart shattering, knowing that somewhere, somehow, their relationship had gone wrong. They had never gotten married, which Bilbo thought was a part of dwarvish law or something, but now had different suspicions. He sought out the only person he thought could help.

Dis often spent time trying to establish diplomacy with other kingdoms, though Bilbo knew how much she hated it. He also knew that she liked to spend time on a ledge outside the western part of the mountain, near her rooms. He remembered that Thorin told him that.

He walked onto the ledge and, sure enough, the princess was there, watching the sunset with sad eyes. She didn’t notice his presence until he cleared his throat.

When she did, she turned back and smiled. “Ah, Bilbo, it’s wonderful to see you.”

“You as well,” He said, smiling back. The princess and he became great friends as the year passed. Both of them planned on talking to Thorin once Erebor was reclaimed and, once he showed that he wasn’t open for chat, sought out each other. “How are the diplomatic relations going?”

Dis groaned. “Well for Erebor, not for me. I don’t know if I can stand another cup of tea; how can you possibly drink so much?”

“Well, my neighbors came by quite often when I lived in the Shire, so I became quite accustomed to the flavor. That, and dealing with unpleasant people. Perhaps I was more suited for diplomacy than you.”

“Perhaps you were.” She looked at Bilbo with her eyebrows raised. “I find it hard to believe you came here just for a visit, since you’ve been avoiding the presence of others for a week or so now. Is there something you wanted to talk about?”

BIlbo’s smile faded as he remembered his real reason for coming. “Ah, yes, there was, actually.” He shuffled his feet, glancing away. “But is it so hard to believe I don’t want to spend time with you?”

Dis smiled ruefully. “No, but I find it quite interesting how quick you are to change the subject. What can be so bad that you came to talk to me about it, but cannot in the moment? You aren’t confessing your love for me, are you?”

Bilbo had a short laugh at that. “No, no, nothing like that. It’s just, ah,...” He trailed off before continuing. “It’s Thorin. He’s not been himself lately. Or since the battle, really, but he’s even more distant now than ever. I know the anniversary is in a month which could be why he’s acting so strange, but it’s been a year since he’s been… well, okay. Is there something I need to know?”

“You know no more than I do,” Dis replied. “But you said he was acting strange. How?”

“Well…” Bilbo coughed. “He doesn’t sleep in the same bed as me anymore. Not like that! We haven’t done anything like that at all actually, but he won’t even lie next to me. He sleeps in a room down the hall. That, and he barely talks to me. I actually can’t remember the last real conversation we had.” He laughed a sad, little laugh, the kind that you make when you’re trying not to cry.. “You know, we never even got married. It’s been nearly two years since we fell in love, and a year since we reclaimed Erebor. Thorin promised the first thing that he’d do as king would be to make it legal for us to marry, but he hasn’t even brought it up.”

Dis stared straight ahead, her gaze hard. “I cannot say what is wrong, but I do know this: you shouldn’t have to live with a lover who will not even acknowledge you. Or with anyone like that. Talk to him about it, Bilbo; I know you must be afraid, but can it get any worse than now?”  
Bilbo though for a moment. “I suppose he could stop living with me entirely, in which case I would go back to the Shire. That nearly seems preferable to this though.” He looked at Dis. “If I did move back, would you visit me? With the others? I don’t know if I could stand being surrounded by only hobbits after all of… this..”

She laughed, the same kind that he had before. “Of course we would, child of the kindly west. I don’t think we could stand not having our hobbit after all of this, as well.”

To his surprise, Dis pulled him into an embrace, which he accepted after only a few seconds. And if he felt her crying, her sobs shuddering through her body, he did not say.

* * *

 The conversation Dis suggested Bilbo have happened. It happened in a completely unexpected way, and Bilbo was elated.

“Thorin?” He asked, knocking on his door. A few days since he talked to the princess had passed, and he finally mustered up the courage to talk to his beloved.

“Hm?” was the only reply he received, but he would take it. He walked into the room to find Thorin lying in the bed, facing the wall. He wasn’t staring at particularly anything, and Bilbo wondered how long he’d been there.

Bilbo sat in a chair across from Thorin, trying very hard not to cross his line of sight. He didn’t want to anger him. Vaguely, Bilbo wondered when had he become that careful around Thorin.

He twiddled with his hands for a moment before blurting out: “Why did we never get married?”

Thorin snapped his head up. The expression on his face was sad. “Oh,” He mumbled. Then, Thorin sat up, gathering the halfling’s hands in his. “I wasn’t sure if you still wanted to do that. And, ashamed as I am to admit it, I forgot in the rush of everything. Please, forgive me.” His eyes looked a little watery, but Bilbo wasn’t sure if it was just the lighting.

“Of course I forgive you,” Bilbo gushed. “Nothing has gone right for you in so long, it’s alright, Thorin.”

At Bilbo’s words, something seemed to break in Thorin. He leaned forward and grabbed an armful of Bilbo, holding him close. “Amralime, despite how I’ve treated you this past year, I’d be honored to take your hand in marriage.”

Bilbo’s breath started to race. His Thorin was finally back! Oh, and he hadn’t realized how much he missed this. He wondered if he’d get the smalls smiles again, the hand on the small of his back, maybe even picnics. He was so caught up in his wondering that he forgot to answer Thorin.

“Oh yes,” He said. “How could I even say no?”

Thorin started to laugh, a real laugh! He couldn’t believe his luck! Bilbo laughed, too, out of pure happiness and joy. He got so caught up in the moment that he planted a kiss right on Thorin.

Immediately Thorin stopped laughing. Bilbo started to lean back, spewing apologies before he had a mouthful of… dwarf mouth? Thorin was kissing him. Thorin.

The very same Thorin that was at his door all those years ago, that gave his cloak to Bilbo so many times during the quest. The Thorin that confessed his love for him at Beorn’s, who protected him from the Elves in Mirkwood and every moment since.

Thorin, who still loved Bilbo.

They consummated their engagement that night, the first time they had ever done so. It was something of a dream, Bilbo was sure. Thorin wouldn’t stop laughing and smiling at him, kissing the side of his face. He was so sweet that Bilbo nearly cried, he was so happy to have him back.

* * *

 The next morning, Bilbo didn’t remember the previous night at first. It wasn’t until Thorin nuzzled his face into Bilbo’s that he remembered.

He jerked back quickly, believing it to be some sort of ruse. Then, the events of the night came flooding back, and a grin wormed it’s way onto his face.

“Good morning,” he said brightly.

Thorin smiled sleepily back at him. “Good morning, my Kurdu, how do you fare?”

“I am well, thank you for asking.” Bilbo’s smiled faltered for a second. “Were you serious last night? About getting married?”

“I would not lie to you, Bilbo,” Thorin said. “If I did not want to marry you, I would’ve said so.”

“Oh.” Bilbo’s smile made it’s way back onto his face. “That’s nice to hear.”

Thorin paused for a second. “Also, I wish to marry you as soon as I can. Within the month, if possible.”

Bilbo looked at him. “Are you sure? I don’t want to rush you into this, we haven’t been, well, close for nearly a year.”

“And it pains me that it has been that way,” Thorin said with a pinched expression. “If you would rather wait to see if I am committed, I understand.”

“No, no, I would love to marry you as soon as I can! I just didn’t know if…”

“Didn’t know if what?"

Bilbo looked away. “I didn’t know if you still did even love me.” He couldn’t bear to look at Thorin, but he could feel the grip around his body tighten. “It was hard for me, too, you know.”

Thorin sighed. “I know, and as I have said, I hate myself for neglecting you for so long. If you are alright with marriage though, I would have it as soon as we can. To make up for lost time.”

Bilbo smiled. “I’d like that.”

* * *

 

The day of the wedding came all too soon, but all too slowly, too. Bilbo couldn’t wait to be married, but watching Thorin fuss over the flower arrangements and outfits? He felt himself falling more and more in love with each passing day.

They decided it would be a small wedding, only those in the company and their family attended, along with Dis. Balin performed the ceremony. When it came time for the vows, Thorin put Bilbo’s bead in the most careful way possible. Bilbo messed up badly right after, with everyone laughing. He had never been happier.

When they kissed at the end of the ceremony, Bofur let out a whoop and everyone began cheering, even quiet Ori. When Bilbo looked at his friends, he caught Dis’ eye. She was smiling so much that Bilbo worried her face would get stuck like that for a moment. He soon remembered the feast and promptly exclaimed, “What’s the point of a wedding without food? Where’s the feast?” Thorin laughed a big, hearty laugh and led the way, their friends following after.

The feast was amazing. They used the smallest dining area they could find, perfect for around twenty people. The walls were decorated in a mix of dwarvish and hobbitish style, the geometric designs working perfectly with the flowers in a way no one would expect.

Bombur prepared the meal. It was seven-courses, mostly meat. They sat around, recalling stories of their quest for Erebor, and just having a wonderful time. They avoided talking about Fili and Kili in hopes of not upsetting Thorin, which worked well.

He sometimes tried to feed Bilbo with a dopey grin on his face. Of course, Bilbo had none of that, the independent hobbit that he was. After telling Thorin to stop numerous times without success, he shoved a cake right into Thorin’s face. The whole table went dead silent. That is, until Thorin broke out in a fit of laughter. Soon, everyone was laughing again, telling Bilbo that he’s the only one who could ever tell Thorin what to do.

He smiled over at Thorin who was already looking at him. His face was only that which could be described as in love. He couldn’t help but think that he was glad they were finally happy.

 

* * *

 

Of course, as they say, “All that glitters is not gold”.

Bilbo had forgotten that the month following their wedding was the anniversary of Fili and Kili’s deaths.

The weeks after the wedding were bliss, as short as they were. He and Thorin were so happy together, it was clear to see from anyone. Then, he had to mess it up by mentioning the beast. He hadn’t even meant to, it was a slip of the mind. Thorin and he were planning a picnic later in that month, something Bilbo was ecstatic about.

“We could do it in three weeks instead of four?” Thorin suggested, pulling his hair back into a braid. The morning was so normal, so domestic. He hadn’t known it would be their last.

“Hm, no,” Bilbo said. “It’s the one year anniversary of the battle, I’m sure there’s going to be a ceremony that week some time. Four weeks will have to work, is that alright?”

Thorin did not reply. “Thorin? Are you all right?” Bilbo got up and went to the bathroom, to make sure Thorin hadn’t cut himself while fixing his hair or something.

Instead, he found Thorin looking in the mirror, that same blank look on his face that there was all those nights ago, back when he brought up the topic of marriage. “Thorin? Is something wrong?”

“It is the one year anniversary of the death of my kin,” he spoke shortly, eyes not leaving the mirror. “I will be fine in time.”

Bilbo looked apprehensively at him. “Okay, but if you ever do need to talk to someone about it, I’m here for you.”

“Hm?” was the only reply he received, once again.

 

* * *

 

If there was an award for the quickest time a life can change in, Bilbo would win it. He couldn’t begin to understand how Thorin went from being depressed, to being happy, to being worse than he had ever been in the span of one month. He was quiet again, rarely talking to Bilbo. It was worse this time though; he had less duties to fulfill, so he spent more time laying around, doing nothing.

To fill the silence, Bilbo talked.

“You know, I would really love to have a garden again one day.” He said one morning, the day  before the actual anniversary. “I do quite miss the colors of the flowers and the vegetables all mixing together. And the work, I really did love it. And the sunshine, it’s so dark down in this mountain I hardly know how I stand it.”

He continued like this for a while, until Thorin stopped replying altogether, just stared into nothing. Bilbo looked at him and walked over gingerly. He kneeled down in front of his husband.

“You know,” he said. “The boys would hate to see you like this. I don’t want to guilt you or anything, but you know it’s true.”

Thorin, still not looking at Bilbo, nodded. He sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to get much out of him today. “Just—remember, it was them that died, not you. Please start acting like it. You know it’s what they would want.”

He took one last lingering gaze at Thorin, then went off in search of Bofur.

 

* * *

 

He ended up spending the night with Bofur and his newly wed wife. He loved being with friends and it was a nice escape after being stuck with a brooding Thorin. He woke up to whispers in the kitchen, but decided to ignore them. When he heard Bofur shout, though, he decided to get up.

He walked out to see Oin and Dis talking to Bofur and his wife. Dis had tear tracks on her face, and Oin, Bofur and his wife all looked extremely upset.

“What’s going on?” Bilbo asked, rubbing his eye. They all turned to look at him. Bofur’s face fell and he tried to recover it, but failed.

“Oh, let me fix you a cup of tea, Bilbo, then we can talk about it,” he said, rummaging through the cabinets.

Bilbo yawned. “Can you make it quick? Thorin’s not going to be doing so well today, what with the occasion and all.”

With that Bofur stopped his movement. He took a deep sigh, and gestured towards Dis.

“Bilbo” she started, before clearing her throat and trying again. “I’m not sure how to put this lightly, but I can try: Thorin won’t be having a bad morning, because he won’t be... having a morning.”

“Wait, what do you mean?” He cocked his head a little to the side. “I’m confused.”

Bofur handed him the tea and ushered Bilbo, Dis and Oin  into the living room. His wife left, to give them privacy.

When they were all seated, Oin sighed. “Laddie, what she means is… Thorin couldn’t take this day, I guess. I went into his chambers, your chambers, this morning and found him with a knife in his heart.”

Bilbo heard the shattering of a tea cup. He wasn’t sure if it was his or not, he couldn’t really feel anything. He thought he felt himself mumble a little “Oh,” before slinking down into his chair. He felt tears falling down his face, his body shuddering from sobbing. He knew people were behind him, trying to comfort him, but no, gods no, not his Thorin. They were just happy, they just got married.

He remembered the fond smiles Thorin gave him, the warmth, the happiness, the love. He couldn’t possibly believe it was gone.

“No, no no no,” he felt himself say, rather than heard. “You’re lying, he’s alright, he’s fine.”

He felt Dis gather him up, could hear her shushing him, the warm hand tracing circles on his back, the warm tears on his shoulders—were they hers or his? He couldn’t tell anymore. The searing pain, the broken feeling inside his chest numbed him, numbed him until he felt nothing but sleep.

 

* * *

 

The funeral was a more formal arrangement than last time. Thorin was, in fact, the king, so he deserved a more royal funeral.  

Not that Bilbo remembered much anyways. He couldn’t tell if he was crying or not anymore, but dwarves offered their condolences left and right. It was nearly too much to bear.

What was too much to bear was the sight of his beloved in a coffin. “Oh, no, this must be a joke,” he moaned, clutching to Dis for dear life. He knew he should’ve went to see him up close, maybe say he loved him, but he couldn’t. The sight of Thorin in a coffin was too much, too soon. _We were just happy_ , Bilbo thought to himself. _We had just made it_.

* * *

 

Nearly twenty years passed since that day. He was living in the Shire, with his young cousin Frodo, the closest to happiness he’d been since. No, it wasn’t perfect. He still woke up some nights, crying silently, but the sight of his cousin, practically his son, in the mornings helped with the pain.

He could’ve forgotten too, would’ve forgotten if it hadn’t been for the knock on the door that evening. He and Frodo were lying in bed, reading a book when it happened.

“I’ll get it, my lad,” He told Frodo. “You just stay in bed and go to sleep; I’ll finish the story in the morning.”

“But Uncle Bilbo!” Frodo whined.

Bilbo laughed. “If you keep up that attitude, I’ll never finish the story for you, my boy!”

That quieted Frodo quickly. Bilbo shut the door as carefully as he could before going to answer the other one. When he did, he was in for a surprise.

“Bilbo!” Dis greeted! “Long time no see!”

“Dis!” He exclaimed. He pulled her into an embrace, sighing as he did so. “Ah, and how fares life in Erebor?”

She pulled back, smiling. “It fares well, my dear friend. And in the Shire?”

“As well as it can be, but enough of that! Why don’t you come in for tea?”

Her smile faded. “Actually, I’m on a trip to the Blue Mountains, Bilbo. I’m not even supposed to be here. I just wanted to give you this.” She handed him a letter. “Just… read it, okay? It doesn’t matter when, just do it.”

He smiled sadly. “I will do that, for you. And now that I’ve seen you, I’m expecting you tell our friends how much I miss them and wish I could come back.”

“And I will do that for you,” she mirrored his smile. “However short our meeting, it was fine to see you again, my friend!”

“You as well, my Lady Dis! Had circumstances been better, I’m sure we could’ve been the finest of friends.”

“Indeed we could have. But now I must bid you my farewell. Goodnight, Bilbo Baggins!”

“Goodnight Dis, daughter of Thrain, daughter of Thror! Until we meet again!” He shouted, waving as he watched her leave.

It was another week until he finally opened the letter. He had no time between taking care of Frodo and writing his book, but he’d been anxious to read it. When he opened it, he wasn't sure if he was glad or sad to see it. All he knew is that he couldn't stop crying, couldn't stop gasping out "I love you" into the silence. 

_Dear Bilbo,_

_My dearest love. My heart. My One. I am sorry for having to leave you so abruptly, but know I do so with a heavy heart. You must understand why, I did it only because I love you so._

_You’ve been living with a shell of a dwarf. No excuses can be made for that. Yes, there was our month of happiness, and I would give my life to have one more second of that with you. But I cannot. Whatever the reason, my heart cannot be lifted of this sorrow. I have made you deal with it far too long; it’s time to put an end to it._

_I know that you could never live without me, knowing that I was alive. It was either you or me that had to execute ourselves, and I could not bear knowing I was the cause of your death._

_I know this is incredibly selfish of me. I shouldn’t have put you through this, any of this. It pains me now to think of the heartbreak this will put you through, more than the thought of the death of my nephews._

_Have I ever told you why I love you? You’re the most beautiful creature I have ever laid my eyes upon, but it goes deeper than that. Your heart, pure and precious, is full of kindness. You’re a small, fragile creature, but you do not act that way. You have such a clever mouth, so smart and kissable. I’m disheartened to know I will never taste your lips again._

_Notice how I said “love”, not “loved”. I do not believe we have something incredibly extraordinary. If we did, I wouldn’t be writing this letter. I do know that what we have is special, once in a lifetime, once in a thousand years. When I said “Death do us part” at our wedding, I was lying, I must admit. Even through death, I cannot imagine myself not loving you. It’s who I am._

_What I would give to see your face one last time. My heart breaks at the thought of our last conversation. That will be your last memory of me._

_I hope that you can forgive me, for I cannot forgive myself._

_Ghivashel. Burglar. Bilbo._

_Please, do not forget me._

_With all the love that I am,_

_Thorin Oakenshield_

 

 

 

 


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